


Click, Click, Fall in Love

by my1alias, SkreeBat



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Boudoir photoshoot, Lingerie, M/M, Photography AU, flirtation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29380626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my1alias/pseuds/my1alias, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkreeBat/pseuds/SkreeBat
Summary: Aziraphale was gifted a boudoir photoshoot. The lingerie is skimpy and he almost backs out. Then he sees the photographer...For the Pin-Me Up Zine.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55
Collections: Pin Me Up Zine





	Click, Click, Fall in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all the betas who looked at this. I really appreciate your input.
> 
> Thank you SO much to Skree for going on this ride (and looking at skimpy lingerie) with me! You made this so much fun!
> 
> Final thanks go out to the mods of the zine. You are all amazing!

Aziraphale looked up at the unassuming sign— _Eden Photography_ —on the generic red brick building and gulped. He consulted his phone again to double check the address in the email Tracy had sent him, and cross-referenced it with the print-out of the gift certificate. They all matched. He straightened his bowtie and pulled on the lapels of his coat, swallowing hard. “Nothing for it, then,” he mumbled to himself, taking the few steps forward to grasp the door handle and enter the photography studio.

The foyer of the studio was sparse; a handful of squashy chairs and a reception desk filled the space.

"Good day! You must be Aziraphale. Welcome to _Eden_ ," said the receptionist with a cheery grin. "We've assigned you to room number four. Your selections are ready for you there."

"Thank you, my dear," replied Aziraphale nervously.

"Crowley will be in in a few moments, so go on and get ready." She indicated a hallway partially concealed from Aziraphale's position barely through the doorway, and he took a couple stilted steps forward before falling into a semblance of his normal stride.

The white hallway had a series of doors along it, each clearly numbered. At the fourth, the door was ajar and he walked through into a photography studio. He blinked, not expecting to see the usual pristine white backdrop of a portrait studio. He saw a pile of props at the other end of the room, behind an empty tripod, and a privacy screen in one corner. He moved towards it and saw a tiny rack screwed into the wall behind the screen containing the outfits he had selected for his photoshoot. Seeing the skimpy cloth in reality made his throat dry out and his heart race. _I didn't expect it to be so revealing!_ he thought frantically, one hand clutching unconsciously at the screen. _Maybe they made a mistake?_

But he knew there was no mistake. The seamstress who had come to his shop to get his measurements for his clothing— _lingerie!_ —had also gotten his opinion on several outfits she had brought with her, and the ones he had liked best were here, in person, in his size.

And he was expected to wear them!

Aziraphale turned to run, tell Tracy it had all been a grave misunderstanding, thank her for the gift, and forget the whole thing, when Crowley walked into the room, head bent over a camera case.

 _Oh good Lord_. Aziraphale's brain screamed at him.

Crowley looked up with a crooked grin. “Pardon?”

“Oh dear, did I say that out loud?” gasped Aziraphale.

"Might've done." Crowley's grin widened. "Are you ready to get started?"

Aziraphale swallowed hard. "Alright then." He turned back to the intimidating corner behind the screen. _You can do this, old chap. It might even be fun._ He didn't believe his pep talk, but his fingers automatically started removing his bow tie anyways.

"Did you have a setup in mind?" Crowley's disembodied voice carried from beyond the screen.

Aziraphale peeked out. "Um, no, not really. I've never… I don't know…"

"Not to worry!" Crowley smiled at him, fiddling with the tripod. "We'll start with some basic poses on a pouf and see where it goes from there."

"I'm in your capable hands." Aziraphale disappeared behind the screen again, working at getting his trousers off. He was wearing the dancer's belt that had been provided to him at his consultation—and had _that_ ever been a learning experience!—and felt very naked. He picked up the white lace from the hanger and flushed. Such a pretty, delicate garment! He shimmied into the top and stepped into the briefs, expecting the lace to itch, and was surprised when it didn't.

A loud thud distracted him from petting the soft lace on his belly, and he became self conscious all over again. He peeked out and saw Crowley back at his camera, peering through the focus at an oversized soft-looking pouf. His mouth went dry and his heart started to pound.

He must have made some noise, because Crowley's attention snapped to him. "Everything fit alright?" He frowned. "You look pale. Would you like some water?"

"No no, everything's fine. I'm just…" Aziraphale took a deep breath and tried to force his feet to move him from behind the screen. He failed. "Scared," he finished in a tiny whisper.

Crowley regarded him thoughtfully. “You had a dress shirt, yeah?”

“I did.”

“Put that on over top. We’ll start with a bit of a peek-a-boo type look. That should help.”

Aziraphale grabbed his shirt and put it on, doing up the buttons until he felt more comfortable. Legs bare, he stepped out into the main part of the room. He tugged on his shirt tails, clasped his hands in front of himself, and settled on flexing his fingers by his sides.

Crowley glanced over at him. “Good. Good.” He moved away from his camera and led Aziraphale to the pouf. “Don’t sit just yet. Wait…” He eyed Aziraphale again. “Did you have a tie?”

“A—a bow tie,” mumbled Aziraphale, slightly embarrassed.

“Even better!” Crowley clapped his hands together. “May I?” Having received permission, he quickly brought the piece of fabric back to Aziraphale. He slid it under the collar, pressing it flat against the material, fingers lingering slightly on firm pectoral muscles. A light flush covered both their cheeks. “Right,” he said breathlessly. “I’ll just…” He indicated over his shoulder towards the camera, almost tripping over the fabric on the floor as he walked backwards. “Right.”

Both blushing furiously, they avoided each other’s eyes. A slight smile curved the corners of Aziraphale’s face. _It is nice to be found attractive by such a gorgeous man!_ he thought, eyes lowered. He fingered one side of the bow tie bashfully.

_Click click_

"Oh, I'm sorry, are we starting already? What do I need to do?" he said, hands fluttering nervously.

"Not to worry, I was checking the lighting and sneaking a shot. Want to see?" Crowley gestured Aziraphale over and showed him the picture he'd just taken of him playing with his bow tie.

"This is… Me?" gasped Aziraphale in wonder. "How? I look so…"

"Sexy." Crowley smirked. "Just capturing what I see, Angel."

"Oh!" Aziraphale flushed at the nickname.

"Ok, let's get you back on the set so I can capture more of this. The shy librarian vibe you've got going on is super hot and we can definitely work with that."

Confident in his abilities as a photographer, Crowley gently guided Aziraphale to stand in front of the pouf. He stood back and examined the scene, and snapped his fingers before quickly walking towards the props and wheeling out a fake wall. He rolled it into place and locked the wheels.

"You can lean _gently_ against that if you get the urge to," he said, walking back to his camera. "I want you to unbutton a couple more buttons for me. Good, keep that shy expression. Now roll up your sleeves… Yessss, those forearms could snap m—someone in half!"

A flurry of clicking sounded through the room, punctuating his sentences.

Aziraphale rested an arm against the wall, the shirt hem rising with the motion. Crowley’s enthusiasm was helping his confidence grow and he relaxed a bit. _This is actually...sort of fun!_ he thought, a trifle giddily as he caught a glimpse of Crowley’s appreciative grin. He cocked a hip out and listened to the camera’s clicking. _I’m enjoying myself!_ he thought elatedly.

"Hang on, I just had a lightbulb moment! Don't move a muscle!"

More wheels, and Aziraphale watched as a vanity set was pushed into place in front of the wall.

"Okay, I want you to face the mirror and lean on the desk. Perfect."

The desk was a little lower than his hands, so Aziraphale cocked his hip out again in order to follow his instructions, glancing to the side to see what Crowley thought.

"Don't mind me," Crowley called out cheerfully, pulling out a second camera and hooking it up to the first with a long cable. "I want two angles of this one. Just look into the mirror as if you were looking at your lover." He moved out of sight behind Aziraphale, and the sound of the cameras filled the room again.

"Undo the rest of your buttons now, please, and show me some shoulder."

Breathlessly, Aziraphale finished unbuttoning his shirt and bared his shoulder, the thick strap of white lace visible. Colour mounted on his cheeks.

“That’s it,” said Crowley, shutter clicking away. "Okay, just slide the shirt down to mid-back… Perfect. Yes, Angel, you're doing well. Now just over the arse… A little lower, so we can see just a hint of the peek-a-boo… May I help you?"

Face flaming and more than slightly aroused—and incredibly grateful for the dancer’s belt!—Aziraphale nodded and held his breath as cool fingers adjusted the drape of the shirt over his arms so that the top of his pants were showing; the back had a cut-out in the shape of angel wings.

"That's good, we're only getting a hint of what's to come. Ready to continue?" Crowley didn't wait for a response before the shutter started clicking away again. "Alright, I think we're done with the vanity. Make yourself comfortable on the pouf, please, while I get these out of the way."

Aziraphale sat awkwardly, knees pressed together and tilted to one side. He tried to find a place for his hands, deciding to half-lean back on them.

“Here you go,” said Crowley, handing him a book. He observed his model, taking in his uncomfortable posture. “Would you prefer sitting on a rug?”

“Oh yes, please,” Aziraphale said, relieved.

The change was swift, and Aziraphale soon found himself kneeling on a fluffy red rug, posing with the book in strategic places.

“If you’re feeling comfortable, how would you feel about taking off the shirt?” asked Crowley.

Feeling bold, Aziraphale shrugged out of the shirt and tossed it towards Crowley, who caught it with a grin.

“That’s it, now give me a smoulder.”

“You must have me confused with someone who knows how to smoulder.”

Crowley laughed. “What about the look you’d give someone who just recited you poetry? Give me that.”

“Nobody has ever recited me poetry.”

“‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?’” Crowley blythely quoted, a soft smile on his face as Aziraphale’s jaw dropped. He started taking pictures as he continued the poem, “‘Thou art more lovely and more temperate.’ Can you lie on your stomach, please? Pop your feet up, yes, now face the light… Perfect.”

The peek-a-boo back of the pants was perfectly on display as Aziraphale lounged across the rug, his hands under his chin, a dreamy starry-eyed expression on his face.

"'Thy eternal summer shall not fade,'... You're gorgeous, Angel. I hope you have someone to tell you that?" Crowley hid his reddening face behind his camera.

"I do not," admitted Aziraphale. "And that's not the next line of the sonnet."

"Ah, a man who knows his Shakespeare! It was the next line that fit you. Put your head down... No, stretch out your arm and lie your head on your arm… Yes!" The camera blocked his face again. "Did you, maybe, want to get coffee and talk more about Shakespeare sometime? No pressure. We don't have to."

Aziraphale flushed with pleasure. "That would be lovely, dear."

"Afterall, I've already seen you in your lingerie, it seems only appropriate to ask you out afterwards!" Crowley said with a wink.

"Oh? Do you say that to all your clients?" Aziraphale teased.

"What? No! How can you think—?" Crowley sputtered. "Ooooh... Oh, you bastard. Just for that, you're buying me a cookie."

"Deal."


End file.
